"I love everything!" Muzai chimed happily as the doctor asked her about any loves of hers.
"I love girls on swings and boys in neckties. I love babies in highchairs and puppies with floppy ears. I love girls with big red lips and bald guys with big eyebrows." She paused, stopping in the middle of the hallway as she sucked in an uneven breath and looked up at the ceiling for pictures that were always in the cracks and crevasses.
"I love people who make choices...." She said, staring upwards as her scrawny arms hung awkwardly and limp by her side
"Life is full of choices. Loads and loads of choices, yeah? Good choices. Bad choices. Neutral choices. Pointless choices. Small choices. Big choices." Muzai dropped her head, still smiling softly, as though it was impossible for her not to smile.
"And everyone makes choices, yeah?" She breathed, her voice airy as always as she turned to face him with those bloodshot blue eyes.
"So, essentially, I love everyone, too. Even you--" She paused, her smile fading (miraculously) into a scowl of confusion before her face burst back into that familiar large grin,
"--Oh, wow!" She breathed, embarrassed by what she had said.
"I'm sorry, yeah?" She laughed before turning and moving into the weighing room.
Stepping onto the scale, she stared forward, blankly, without even a smile. This was an important time in her life. If she failed, she had to spend more time in the ward with those psychopathic women. Muzai had a few scars from where they would bite her and claw at her skin because she looked so ghastly--like a ghost right from their visions and nightmares. Zai shifted, uncomfortable as the pain from her overfull bladder was pressing on her more viciously. The numbers started high. Lower. Lower. Lower. Lower.
Failed.
Muzai dropped her head a bit, and it appeared almost as though she would cry as he read the numbers. She just wanted to leave. She wanted to go home. Zai had been rotting away in this psych ward for two years now, and every single day she failed, no matter what she did. The emotional stress was enough to put a horse out of it's misery.
Rationing my food? Silly Li, what food? "Yes, I am." She lied, but it was what he wanted to hear, as shown as he scribbled down his notes onto the notepad, helping her off the scale after his lecture. She smiled, nodding,
"Oh, wow." She airily smiled,
"Okay, I will walk with you, yeah?" She agreed, as she moved into the bathroom with her clothes so she could change.
Scrambling to the toilet, Muzai relieved herself of at least five pounds of water. Her stomach finally feeling better and less pained as she stood and took off her medical gown and Li's lab coat, folding them up neatly and placing them on the counter.
Standing in her underwear now, the young lady then proceeded to remove two five-pound weights from her bra, one on each side. Placing them strategically in the tank of the toilet where a zip-lock bag waited for them. Muzai knew how to play the board, and she knew how to play it well. In reality, Muzai was only 95 pounds, a dangerous weight, but she had managed to up the pounds to 110 just so they wouldn't put her on more medication and try any more hypnotism or force feeding.
Changing into her
dress from earlier, Muzai picked up the pile of folded clothes and moved back out, shakily, and handed him his lab coat back, that beautiful smile still on her face. Her tangled and fine blonde hair pushed behind her down her back to her waist. It appeared as though she had just gotten out of the shower, and her bloodshot eyes looked as though there was too much soap involved.
"To my room, yeah?" She agreed as she moved out and down the next few cooridors.
Mental Health Ward 5B. It was an all-girls ward. 12 rooms. 12 girls. As they moved down the corridor where Muzai's room was (the very last one on the left) the room smelled of medical rubbing alcohol and sterilization. The moans and cries of the girls echoed through the walls. Whispering and menacing giggles. Each room had a large plexiglass door so they could be monitored at all times. Some of the girls sat silently on their beds staring at nothing. Others rocked back and forth with wild looks in their eyes. One even plastered herself against the door, running her nails down it as her large green and bloodshot eyes watched the doctor, her tongue running across her lips.
Though Muzai seemed unshaken by the creepy characters in the ward, they were her greatest nightmare. They would moan and cry in the night, sometimes even scream, and they scared her. She was afraid that somehow they would get into her room and tear at her flesh again, and she would shake and sing herself to sleep just to try and drown them out.
Opening her large glass door, that was locked with a huge steal wheel that controlled all sorts of weird metal cogs and rails, she turned it until it popped open and she lead Li into her
dorm. For good behavior, the girls were granted things in their rooms. Muzai, for example, had a simple
rag doll placed on her bed. Inside each room, though, was a bed closest to the door with all white sheets and blankets, and a medical table with leather straps closest to the window.
But, the thing most out of place in Muzai's room was the fact that there was nothing out of place at all. It was almost like her room was untouched. Everything was clean, spotless, folded, delicate. There wasn't a crumb of food in sight. The only thing "personal" about it was a painting on the wall and the rag doll. The curtains were shut, the window was shut, the bed was fully made, and the floor so clean, he could lick it.
"Home sweet home--" She joked with that wide beautiful grin, her knees shaking weakly,
"--Oh, wow!"
